


Glowing Hearts

by TheRealSokka



Series: After Hell and before Heaven [2]
Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post first kiss, but mostly just Fluff; I promise, some internalized homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25767904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealSokka/pseuds/TheRealSokka
Summary: After the surprising end to their sparring session, Ava and Beatrice have a talk about what just happened. Sort of.(I meant for the first part of this to be a one-shot, but here I go with a continuation. Don't mind me.)
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Series: After Hell and before Heaven [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869328
Comments: 15
Kudos: 249





	Glowing Hearts

_Holy shit_ , Ava thinks.

There are a lot more thoughts that her brain is trying to voice, but it constantly comes back to this. _Holy shit_ , she just kissed Beatrice. _Holy shit_ , Beatrice just kissed her back. _Holy shit_ , that kiss felt amazing.

 _Holy shit_ , they have to do that again sometime.

She is probably going to end up in the deepest pit of hell just for all the curses alone at this point, but she still can’t stop smiling.

“Ava?”

Ava blinks and focuses on Beatrice, who is looking at her expectantly. “Sorry, what? Did you say something?”

Beatrice blushes. “I asked if we should go inside? Before you catch a sun burn. You complained about the heat, so…” She catches a lose hair strand over her ear and fiddles with it seemingly without noticing. It’s a tick Ava has never seen on her before – which makes sense, given that she usually wears either her habit or her combat gear, which don’t permit lose hair strands. Still, despite that it doesn't seem like _she_ needs to worry about sun burns, because her skin looks rather well tanned. Or maybe that’s just her blush. She’s really pretty when she blushes…

“Ava?!”

“Sorry.” Ava repeats, realizing she was spacing out again. “Yeah. Inside. Good plan.”

Beatrice shakes her head, a slight hint of an amused smile twitching in the corners of her mouth. Her eyes flick from Ava to the ground, as if unsure what they’d rather look at. Together they gather up their water bottles and towels and head into the house. Now that Beatrice mentions it, it is rather hot, isn’t it? Ava distinctly remembers having cursed the heat repeatedly over the last couple of days. But she thinks that under the circumstances, she can be forgiven not having paid that much attention to it right there. Beatrice is a much more focussed person than she is. Always has been.

She steals a furtive glance at the sister warrior beside her. Should they talk about this? They have to talk about this, right? But Ava has exactly zero clue how to start such a conversation. She hasn’t even talked with JC about their kiss, and that had been her first. Though in fairness, at the time a pair of hostile nuns and an even more hostile demon had gotten in the way of that talk. Still, talking about feelings is definitely not her strong suit. And Beatrice doesn’t seem like she wants to make a start, either. _Just play it cool_ , Ava decides. _It was only a kiss. A very nice kiss in need of a sequel. Nothing to freak out about._

Mary is lounging on her mattress in the living room. She doesn’t look up as the two of them enter. “Did you beat her up again, Bea?” she inquires, nose stuck in her book. “Didn’t hear any screams in a while.”

“Knocked me right out.” Ava replies flawlessly, without skipping a beat. “It was one hell of a surprise attack; you should have seen it! Completely forgot where I was for a moment.”

“Nice one.” Mary glances up briefly. “You’re up against me next, so better up your game. Good to know she’s not going easy on you, at least.”

“She would never.” Ava glances back at Beatrice, who looks like she is trying extremely hard not to burst out into laughter. “Uh, don’t mind us; we’re just gonna go freshen up after all that heat, yeah?”

“Yes.” Beatrice jumps in, managing to pull herself together. “And we have to review Ava’s technique; it still needs a lot of work.”

“Hm.” Mary nods vaguely. “Do that. See you in the yard in a few hours, Halo Bearer.”

They ascend the stairs to the second floor. They enter one of the empty ridiculously large bedrooms. Ava closes the door behind them. She and Beatrice exchange a glance. Only then do they finally break down laughing.

Ava has trouble breathing after a while. It’s been a long time since she has laughed this hard and her stomach muscles seem to have forgotten how, because they hurt something fierce. She glances across at Beatrice. The sister warrior is leaning against the opposite bedstead, having collapsed against it much like Ava has. Her hair has made further progress in its attempt to escape from her bun, now falling into her face in some parts. She is breathing heavily, her mouth turned up in an absurdly big grin that is mirroring Ava’s.

She is so beautiful.

“A ‘surprise attack’?!” Beatrice demands, once she has regained her breath.

“You have to ‘review my technique’?” Ava shoots back. “What the hell am I supposed to take away from that?! I thought that kiss was nothing to scoff at.”

“Didn’t you hear Mary?” Beatrice leans forward. “I was going easy on you.”

Ava raises an eyebrow. “That’s not what it felt like.”

Beatrice covers her face in her hands. “Oh my God!” comes a muffled groan.

“Language!” Ava calls.

“Don’t you _language_ me. What just happened?” Beatrice looks up at her incredulously. “Did we really just get away with that?”

“Somehow.”

“Ava, I thought for sure she would call us out the second we walked through that door.”

“Guess that must be one hell of a fascinating book?” Ava shrugs.

There are a few beats of silence where they just look at each other. Ava finds that her mind is suddenly empty of words. Under Beatrice’s gaze she is starting to become self-conscious. The full realization of what happened in the last couple of minutes is slowly starting to sink in, and she frankly has no idea what to make of it. She studies Beatrice furtively. Are they together now? That’s normally what a kiss means, right? But, like, are they official? Can they kiss whenever they want now? Is Beatrice even allowed to kiss her, being a nun? And why has she chosen to kiss her, Ava, of all people? Ava is pretty sure she is the first quadriplegic dead person to ever kiss a nun. And the crazy thing is; she, for her part, is completely okay with that.

 _Holy shit_ , she might be gay.

“You kissed me.” Beatrice states, finally.

“Well, you kissed me back!” Ava returns with a little too much force. There are way too many thoughts racing through her head right now.

“I did.” Beatrice’s eyes flick down at the floor and back up to her face. “Was…was that okay?”

“Okay?” A laugh escapes her. “It was amazing. I’m just not…I don’t…” She swallows and tries to get her thoughts in order. “Why me?”

“What?” There’s a look of confusion on the other woman’s face.

“Like, you’re this super smart, ass-kicking, funny, badass warrior, and I’m – well, I’m me. I didn’t think you liked me.” She hastily corrects herself; “I mean, I know you _like_ me, just not like _that_.”

“That’s pretty much exactly what I thought about _you_.” Beatrice draws in her shoulders, hugging her knees. It’s like she wants to make herself smaller all of a sudden. “But – you knew about me, didn’t you? That I’m…” Her voice falters, like she can’t bring herself to say it out loud.

“ _Lesbisch?_ ” Ava completes it for her.

Beatrice nods, a weak smile ghosting over her lips. “Lesbisch. I guess this is me coming out, huh?”

Out of an impulse, Ava crosses the divide between them, sliding over until she sits beside Beatrice. Their eyes meet and Ava sees some of her own uncertainty reflected back at her. “To be honest, I think you did five minutes ago down in the yard.” she says. “We both did.”

Beatrice makes a tiny movement with her shoulders that might have been a shrug. Her eyes don’t leave Ava’s. “Are you okay with it?”

“A bit confused.” Ava admits. Which has to be the understatement of the century. She looks at her (friend? Girlfriend? Beautiful girlfriend?). She sees the tightness in Beatrice’s cheeks, the way her face tries to slide back into a controlled mask, and she decides _screw it_. She slides her hand over the floor, nudging against Beatrice’s.

Beatrice looks down at it, and then back up at Ava. There’s a question burning in her eyes; a question that feels too big for words. But, Ava realized with a flutter in her stomach, there is also trust there. Slowly, Beatrice turns up her palm, allowing Ava to intertwine their fingers. Both their hands are sweaty. Ava squeezes them tightly. Her heart is starting to beat faster. She’s not completely tone deaf; she recognizes what a great sign of trust from Beatrice this is. Her telling of the story of sister Melanie, the small details she has divulged of her upbringing and her family, the way her eyes still sometimes avoid Ava’s; all of it slots together into the picture of someone for whom the admission ‘ _I’m gay_.’ must be infinitely harder than it is for Ava. And Ava would sooner walk through another ten feet of concrete than make it worse for her. Especially because – she smiles up at Beatrice – she feels the same way. Halo help her, she does. How can’t she, realistically?

“I’m okay with it.” she reassures her. “More than okay.”

Beatrice gives a short, disbelieving laugh. It rushes out of her like something she had been holding in for a very long time. She doesn’t say anything in response. Instead she closes her eyes, leaning her head back against the bedstead, breathing in and out slowly.

Ava can’t help but stare at her. She looks so calm and so – at ease. Beatrice always has a sense of calm surrounding her, but this feels different. Less like the calm before a storm and more like calm just for calmness sake, if that makes sense. It probably doesn’t. Ava finds she can’t really get her thoughts in order with Beatrice so close to her. She doesn’t want to disturb her, but at the same time her hands are twitching at her sides, dying to touch her; to cup her face or twist one of those lose hair strands around her fingers.

“Bea?” she asks after a while. It’s the first time she’s used that nickname and she likes the way it rolls smoothly off her tongue. "Can I - can I do something?"

Beatrice opens her eyes. As they meet hers, Ava can still faintly see the question in them, but more than anything there is trust there. Beatrice gives a nod, her gaze flicking down to Ava’s lips for a split second.

Taking that as encouragement, Ava reaches up, taking the lose hair into her hands and tucking them back behind Beatrice’s ear. She swears, her fingers only linger there for a moment – long enough to feel the small shudder that goes through the sister warrior – before they travel further up, all the way to the nape of the bun that holds her hair back. Carefully she starts to unravel the knot, bit by bit; something she has wanted to do for a long time now. She has never done this before, so it takes her a while, but finally her clumsy attempt is met with success and Beatrice’s hair falls free. Ava pulls back a bit to look at her.

It’s more than she’s dreamt of. Beatrice’s hair is a smooth, dark brown almost without curls. It frames her face like an open curtain; completely different from her usual look. It’s still badass, just a different kind of badass, Ava thinks. Mesmerized, she runs her hand through it, enjoying the feel of Beatrice’s hair flowing over her knuckles.

Beatrice is staring at her. She bites her lip and fiddles with the tips of her hair as if unsure what to do with it now. “What?” she demands. It comes out as a whisper.

“You’re so beautiful.” Ava whispers back.

Beatrice turns her head away.

"Bea?" Ava asks, noticing the sudden tension in her shoulders. She stops her ministrations, making to withdraw her hand. It only occurs to her now that this might be a weird thing to do. _Shit_ , is this a weird thing to do?

"Sorry. It's nothing." Beatrice turns back. The tension in her muscles seems to relax a little as she looks at her. She reaches out to hold Ava’s hand in place, leaning into the touch. "This feels really nice. Please, keep going."

Ava is all too happy to oblige. Seeing that cute blush appear on the sister warrior’s cheeks is something she didn’t even know she wanted until she had it. So she keeps going, wrapping Beatrice’s hair around her fingers and enjoying her contented sighs. “You should wear your hair down more often.” she states.

“Ava, that is not compatible with wearing a habit. Or combat gear. There’s a reason the Order does things the way it does.”

“Is that reason called ignorance of progress?”

“No, it’s called tradition. Physical attributes don’t matter to a nun, as they don’t to God. And, anyway, it would get in the way in a fight.”

Ava raises an eyebrow, stopping her motions for a second. “Physical attributes don’t matter? Does that mean you don’t find me attractive?”

“No! I do. I always thought you were pretty. It’s just that that is not why I lo- why I like you. When I look at you, I don’t just see a pretty face. You are so…” Beatrice makes a vague gesture.

“I’m so – what?” Ava can’t help but smile. “Badass? Amazing? Unbelievably funny?”

“Egotistic, brash, dismissive.” the sister warrior corrects. Ava makes an affronted huff and tries to hit her in retaliation, but Beatrice expertly catches her wrist. Their eyes meet and Beatrice smiles softly, relaxing her grip. “And brave. Kind. Open-minded.” She chuckles. “And yes; a little bit funny as well.”

“A little bit? You absolute comedic philistine!” Ava jokes, to cover her sudden spell of unease. Beatrice just called her brave. If only she knew how wrong that assessment is; how frightened she has been the whole time in the Vatican. All this being-the-hero business, having people who she has come to care about rely on her, it was legitimately terrifying. It still is. She was resurrected by a god she doesn’t even really believe in; she is fighting demons from hell and on the run from the pope himself, and Ava can still barely comprehend how she ended up in the middle of all this. She just hopes she can live up to what Beatrice sees in her. “I have to make a confession.” she says, taking a deep breath. “I have no clue what I’m doing half the time.”

“I’m aware. That’s what you have me for.” Beatrice raises her hand, falters for a brief moment and then cups her chin. Her expression is impossibly gentle for someone who slays demons every other day. “It’s alright if you don’t have all the answers all the time. No one does but God. But between the five of us, I think we’ll manage. And sometimes – sometimes all you need is just one person to believe in you.” Her voice is thick with emotion. Her other hand comes up to tangle into Ava’s curls. Beatrice laughs softly. “Tu es parfait comme tu es.”

“Uh…I don’t…I don’t know what that means.” Ava stutters. She’s pretty sure that was French. But it’s hard to focus when Beatrice is _right there_ , looking at her like that. Ava wants this moment to last forever, but at the same time she wants it to be more. Yes, she is greedy. Sue her. “Can I kiss you?” she blurts out before she can stop herself.

To her delight, that makes Beatrice blush again. To her dismay, it also makes her stop her touches. “You didn’t ask for permission before.” she says.

“Sorry about that.”

“You are forgiven. I just didn’t expect it.”

“That makes two of us.” Ava glances down at Beatrice’s lips. Somehow they seem to have drifted even closer together and now they are definitely in each other’s space. She is suddenly scared of talking too loud, lest she might break this spell. “So, is it okay…?”

Beatrice surges forward and captures her lips. It’s nothing short of a surprise attack, perfectly designed to counter Ava’s, which would have been the exact same move. Of course Beatrice would find a way to outmanoeuvre her, Ava thinks petulantly. Then she abandons all strategy and kisses her back. Her hands instinctively fly to the other’s shoulders to keep her in place, but Beatrice is not going anywhere. Her lips crash against Ava’s with an eagerness that the other woman has not expected of her. It’s hurried and overwhelming, yet somehow still gentle, a combination that only Beatrice can pull off.

Her hands are roaming over Ava’s neck down to her back, and Ava sits up on her knees to allow her better access. As if she has only been waiting for that, the sister warrior catches her by the shoulders to pull her closer. Now they’re flush against each other and Ava can feel Beatrice everywhere. She releases a small gasp. It’s pure sensory overload. _Oh_ , and it’s also putting her in a precarious position in terms of balance. With Beatrice pressing against her, she is slowly starting to tilt backwards, and Beatrice immediately chases after her. Perhaps she should push back, considers the small part of Ava’s brain still capable of conscious thought – but on the other hand this is one battle she is very happy to lose. Every nerve in her body is on fire. It’s like being electrified, only this doesn’t hurt. This is bliss. She smiles against Beatrice’s lips. She feels like she is falling.

Wait a second. _She is actually falling_!

She only realizes it once she is already half-way through the suddenly liquid floorboards, her feet coming out in the empty air beneath. She gives a startled, un-hero-like squeak as her head dips beneath the floor, catching a last glimpse of Beatrice looking after her in surprise. Then she emerges one floor down in the living room, flails wildly as she falls another five feet, and lands on one of the mattresses.

“What the-?!” Mary drops her book, staring at her nonplussed. Her eyes jump up to the ceiling and back to Ava. “Where did you just come from?”

The question barely even registers in Ava’s mind. She frantically pinches the mattress beneath her, confirming that it’s still solid. It is. For now. _What the hell, halo?!_ One second she was in heaven, and now she is suddenly down in the living room, without any explanation being provided. She gets to her feet, concentrating hard on not letting the ground swallow her a second time. She has no intention of falling right through to the earth’s core, thank you very much.

“Ava? Hello? Earth to Halo Bearer.”

“Uh- I fell through the ceiling?” Ava manages.

“Yeah, I got that part.” Mary’s eyes are in serious danger of rolling right out of her head. “My question was, why. You are aware that there are stairs, right?”

“I’ve heard of them.” Between her new fear of the ground and the lingering daze that Beatrice’s kiss has left her in, Ava can barely focus on Mary. She feels a blush approaching and desperately casts around for a distraction. “So, what are Camila and Lilith up to?”

“Still in town, investigating that demon activity. As you know, because we’ve discussed it at breakfast and you personally saw them off.” Mary has crossed her arms. Underneath her critical expression dawns another, amused one. It sets off all warning bells in Ava’s brain, because Mary being amused is almost never a good sign for anybody else. The sister warrior raises an eyebrow at her. “What’s up with you? What are you and Beatrice doing up there?”

“We were…uh…just testing the halo.”

“Uhu.” Mary still looks dangerously amused. “Is that a test I want to know the details of?”

“No. I mean, it’s really nothing special; you’d be bored.”

“I bet. Nothing special. Well, do inform me once you are done. Don’t want to walk in on any _experiments_.” Mary gives a nonchalant shrug and returns to her book and mattress. She looks up when Ava is still standing right where she left her. “Well, back up you go. I’m sure Beatrice wants to know how your test went.”

_Does she know?!_

_Shit, she knows._

_Meaning the others will know too, in a minute._

_Well, fuck_.

Ava is pretty sure she looks like a tomato at this point. Which is ridiculous; she has never been one to get easily flustered, and especially not by Mary. She searches for some kind of rebuttal, finds that she can’t find one, gives an annoyed huff and turns her back on the smug sister warrior to head back upstairs. It’s a slow ascent, as she is careful not to fall through each step. The last thing she needs right now is to give Mary another reason to make fun of her. She needs Beatrice; they have to come up with some kind of game plan. Where is she, anyway? Ava expected her to rush to her rescue the second she fell through the floor. She could have died, for all Beatrice knew!

Apparently that has not been Beatrice’s thought process. When Ava enters the bedroom for the second time, she finds her still sitting against the bedstead where Ava has abruptly left her. Beatrice looks up at her. “Hey.” she says with a perfectly neutral expression.

It lasts for a good two seconds. Then she snorts and immediately after breaks into giggles.

"Don't laugh at me!" Ava cries. Honestly, nothing about this funny!

“I’m sorry.” Beatrice gasps in between shocks of laughter. “You just – left. Poof. Ava gone.”

“Stop!” Ava leaps towards her, trying to get a hand over Beatrice’s mouth. To her frustration, Beatrice is still alert enough to evade her attempts. “Not funny! That shit was fucking scary. I'm scared I'll fall through the floor again any second!"

Beatrice takes a few deep breaths, managing to calm down a little. "It _was_ funny. And I don't think you have to worry too much about that." she tries to soothe the distraught Halo Bearer.

It’s seriously aggravating how Beatrice’s presence still manages to calm her down, even as Ava tells herself that she needs to be furious with her right now. "How do you know? _I_ don't even know why I did what I did."

"But we do know that the halo is tied to your emotions. So whatever that was, it must have been triggered when we - kissed." Beatrice’s gaze drops to her feet, looking downcast. "Must have been one bad kiss if it made you phase right out of the room..."

"No, no! That wasn't the subtext at all! I didn't mean to...I don't know why..." Ava stammers, panicked. Then she sees the glint in Beatrice's eye. Outraged, she shuts up and punches her friend's shoulder. "Idiot! Stop teasing me!"

"But it’s so much fun." Beatrice chuckles. "You should see your face!”

"You have no right to play with my emotions like that." Ava grumbles.

Beatrice cocks her head, giving her a bright grin. "Don't I?"

This is really not fair. As much as she wants to stay mad at Beatrice, that look and comment just melt her. She feels a blush creep onto her face. "Shit, why do you have to be good at flirting on top of everything else?!" she complains.

At least she has the satisfaction that she can still make Beatrice blush, too. “I don’t have much practice yet.” the sister warrior admits. Her right hand darts up to her hair again. “We could learn it together, if you like…?”

Ava can’t help but smile. She will never get used to how this woman can be so shy and yet so cool and badass at the same time. Still, the proposal, as carefully phrased as it is, makes her heart beat faster. _Yes, they might just be official_. “I’d like that.” she replies honestly. “But let’s _please_ find a way to practise without me falling through the floor again. I just had an absolutely mortifying conversation with Mary, and I don’t want a repeat.” She shudders. “Especially not with Lilith.”

For a brief second, a look of fear passes over Beatrice’s face. Then she sighs. “She knows? About us?”

“Pretty positive. But I didn’t confirm or deny anything.” Ava likes to think she has gotten better at acknowledging other people’s problems, and she sees the conflict inside her friend. She steps up to Beatrice and clasps her shoulder. “We don’t have to tell them if – if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do. I do want to.” Beatrice straightens her shoulders and meets her eyes. “I’m not ashamed of this. Of us. I want you to know that.”

“Good, cause I’m not, either.” Ava really wants to dart in and kiss her again, but she holds herself back. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to rush into anything for me. I just – want you to be you. If that makes sense.”

In response, Beatrice takes her hand and intertwines their fingers. She presses a quick kiss to Ava’s knuckles. “It does. And it means a lot to hear you say that.” There’s a gentle smile playing on her lips. “I’ve been trying to do that ever since I joined the Order. To listen more to myself, to what I want deep inside. To follow my own compass as opposed to someone else’s, if you will. I think I’ve gotten better at it. And right now hat compass is pointing at you.”

Ava shakes her head, slightly embarrassed. “Jesus Christ, Bea. I wish I could be so poetic.”

“Language.” Beatrice reprimands her.

They share a long look, and suddenly Ava doesn’t know what to do with her bubbling emotions. She turns them into a chuckle. “Okay then. Should we confess our revelations to Father Mary right now, or wait until the others are back?”

“I’d rather just have that talk once.” Beatrice cups Ava’s cheek, her eyes alight with something Ava can’t even name. “But they’ll probably be a while. We’ve got time.”

“I like the way you think.” Ava nods appreciatively, leaning into the touch.

“But,” Beatrice whispers into the steadily shrinking space between them, “once we have to face the music, I’ll hold on to you. You don’t get to phase out of that conversation and leave me alone.”

“Please, do hold on to me. The last thing I want right now is to phase away again.”

Ava is not 100% sure about the physics on this emotion-halo-thing. But if it means she’ll get to spend more time in Beatrice’s arms, she decides she’ll gladly test it out.

**Author's Note:**

> Beatrice's French: "You are perfect just the way you are."


End file.
